


Warm Weather, Thoughts of Home

by orphan_account



Series: Some Type of Love [3]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Bit of Fluff, Humor, M/M, Romance, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 20:26:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5757169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was supposed to be good news, learning that the cure had gotten to Duncan safely and  -  even better news  -  actually worked. MacCready knew that going back to live in the Capital Wasteland was pretty much out of the question. It wasn't as safe as the Commonwealth now that the Minutemen were back up and running, and living in the city where nearly everything reminded him of the love he had lost was a pain he didn't want to experience again. That left him with only one real solution, and he wasn't prepared for it to be a sure-fire thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warm Weather, Thoughts of Home

The garage door was open, a warm breeze flowing through every so often and carrying out the smell of burning wires and oil. The weather was amazing, the Commonwealth having had a streak of cloudless, warm days lasting a week so far. It brightened everyone up in their little settlement, Red Rocket humming with activity as everyone took advantage of it. Even Nat was up from Diamond City to enjoy it with her sister, joining the others down to the stream under the bridge connecting the truck stop to Sanctuary.

MacCready, however, hated nothing more than getting wet for any reason. Swimming was the most unappealing thing he could spend his time doing, definitely worse than sitting on the concrete of a terribly humid garage. At least there was a bonus to putting up with the aforementioned. While working on a faulty turret, Logan had unzipped the top half of his vault suit and was left only in a wife beater that was now stained with some grease and oil. Luckily, the vaultie was focused on his work that he didn’t notice MacCready’s obvious staring from over his comic book. He nearly blew his own cover twice; once when Logan had dropped the screwdriver he had been using and was unable to pick it up due to the grease covering his hands. He let out a monotonous ‘Fuck’ in each attempt to grab it, and MacCready had to bite down hard on his tongue to keep from laughing.

The second time was when Logan had brushed strands of hair off his forehead, pushing them back into place and turning the movement into a stretch. MacCready furrowed his brow, forcing himself to tear his eyes away from the man and look down at the comic in his lap. Seriously, screw that guy. How does someone live in the Commonwealth, eat only vegetables and gross radstag, and  _ still  _ maintain muscle mass.  _ How _ ?

“Where’d you learn to do that?” MacCready asked after several minutes, nodding toward the turret. He was halfway through the issue of Grognak but had processed none of it and he was getting sick of the silence. Not to mention the need for a distraction from his own thoughts.

“Do what?”

He rolled his eyes at him, “Sitting. You’re really good at it.”

Logan laughed and, crap, that was a bad idea. What was this guy, some pinup model? God.

“Before the war, when I was enlisted,” Logan started, grabbing MacCready’s attention again. “I was an artillery mechanic. Made sure all their shit was working and wouldn’t explode when they went to use it. Kind of made you familiar with the stuff.” He sat back and tapped the metal casing of the turret with the tip of a screwdriver. “You’d think after 200 years, some shit would change but you’d be wrong.”

“Dad!”

Footsteps quickly approached them and Shaun came barreling through the large entryway. Dogmeat was following him close behind, fur wet and dripping from his swim in the river. Logan looked over his shoulder, a little surprised but a smile broke out on his face that made MacCready’s chest feel a little warm.

“Hey, kiddo,” He greeted the boy as he ran up to them, stopping just before he crashed into his father and the turret he was working on. Dogmeat, though, had a little bit more trouble skidding to a halt. “You come up all by yourself?”

Raiders or super mutants haven’t been seen in nearly months around their settlement, and they only really holed up on the outskirts of the Commonwealth. The Minutemen became somewhat of an army, Ronnie Shaw taking control of the Commanding Officer position. Some of the Minutemen still came looking for Logan or Preston when they needed help with something, but they were rarely ever traveling to settlements to drive away anyone trying to kill something. Still, Logan acted like a Yoa Gui would burst out from the bushes every time Shaun wasn’t with him or one of their companions.

“Yeah, but I had Dogmeat with me,” the boy explained to him, like he knew Logan was going to say something about it. “What are you doing?”

Logan shrugged as he began to explain the process, Shaun getting closer so he could watch with rapt attention. Even with him sitting down, Shaun stood just an inch or two taller than his father, and the sight of them made MacCready smile to himself as he turned the page to his comic. Thoughts of Duncan made it impossible to focus on it, however. How tall would he be, at this point? Would he care about turrets and what goes into making them work? Does he like dogs? Would he get along with Dogmeat?

It was a long time since he let himself think about his son. Wondering what Duncan would be like when he grew up, when he would be able to go back and see him  -  all of it had reminded MacCready that Duncan may not be able to have that. When he left for the Commonwealth, Duncan hadn’t been able to walk. Imagining him at Shaun’s age had been difficult and it put him in a sour mood, but now . . . 

A week before, Logan had taken him to Goodneighbor in order to do some trading and that was when Daisy had approached him. She hardly ever left her store unattended, but news traveled fast in their town -  especially if it was about the Vault Dweller. And if Logan was around, MacCready wasn’t far behind. The ghoul found him as Logan bartered with KL-E-0, pulling him aside with a blank expression that made it feel like his stomach was full of ice and his heart just dropped into it. Once they were out of earshot from any of the drifters or Neighborhood Watch, she finally faced him with a giant smile.

“It worked,” She had told him. “The cure worked. Got word that the kid’s been running around like he was never on a deathbed.” MacCready hadn’t really known what to say, and he wasn’t the hugging type, so he just sighed out a breath he hadn’t even realized he had been holding and tried not to cry in front of Daisy. She didn’t seem to be the touchy-feely type either, as she just gave him one firm pat on the shoulder. “You must got some lucky charm, kid. Someone’s watching out for you and your boy.”

After she had went back to her shop, MacCready had stood there, back against a brick wall, just breathing. He finally collected himself minutes later and found Logan by the Memory Den, talking to a drifter. His eyes landed on MacCready and that was the end of the conversation between the two. The look on MacCready’s face must have panicked him.

“Are you alright?” He had asked, eyes searching MacCready’s.

He had briefly considered telling him, but his mouth worked before his brain could decide. “Yeah, I was just talking to Daisy. You done?”

And that had been that.

He watched as Shaun helped Logan by handing him tools, listening to his father’s explanation as to how each one worked and what they did. Shaun probably knew all of them better that his father did, but he still sat patiently with an eager expression. He was a good kid. He got along with everyone, and even Danse took a liking to him. Shaun thought his power armor was the coolest thing  -  even though Logan had about five suits  -  and Danse always appreciated someone who showed any kind of interest in the Brotherhood.

He found himself thinking about their people like that often; debating on whether or not he’d like them around Duncan. It would probably take some convincing, but maybe Logan would agree to let MacCready bring him up. He’d let them take a house in Sanctuary and they’d live there so they wouldn’t be in the way at the truck stop. Everyone was still getting used to having one kid puttering around, and having another one who was even younger? He'd understand if they weren't exactly wanted around.  


The sudden hum and rattling from the turret coming to life jolted him from his thoughts. Shaun cheered, Logan half-shouted a, “Hell yeah!” and they high-fived triumphantly. MacCready was nearly blown away by the sudden resemblance between the two, the way their cheeks pushed up in a smile that almost made their eyes crinkle shut with the force 

“We’ll make a repair man out of you yet, kiddo,” Logan told him, standing to his full height and threading his fingers through Shaun’s hair to shake his head back and forth. The boy laughed, grabbing his wrist and pulling the hand away from himself. “Why don’t you head back to the bridge? It’s getting dark, we’re gonna have to head in soon.”

“Okay,” Shaun agreed simply. He made his way toward the door and, from where he laid next to MacCready, Dogmeat perked up and bounded after him. The merc swore that the only thing that loved Shaun more than the mutt was Logan himself. “Hey, when we go in, do you think we could get the TV finally working?”

Logan shrugged, “I don’t know, kid, you’re gonna have to ask Nick about that one.”

“Right, okay,” He started off at a run back to the others, waving at them with Dogmeat barking maniacally behind him, “See you later!”

“Godspeed, Pilgrim,” Logan shouted back, bending over to start gathering all of the tools that had been used for their repair. “I wonder where that comes from, the ‘godspeed, pilgrim’ thing. I’ve always just said it. I think I got it from my dad.” He straightened back up and looked at MacCready, brow furrowing when the younger man made no response. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I  -  “ He took a deep breath, pushing the comic out of his lap and getting to his feet. Better to just get it over with. “Remember when we went to Goodneighbor a while back?”

“You mean last week?”

MacCready rolled his eyes with a scoff, “Yeah, last week.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Logan paused, tilting his head. “I knew something was up. You’ve been weird. What happened?”

“Nothing bad,” he amended quickly. “Daisy just told me Duncan’s feeling better.”

“Shit, no way,” the vaultie grinned at him, “That’s awesome, Rob.” MacCready nodded, but he was too nervous to smile back. Logan noticed and his own smile faltered slightly. “What? Isn’t that good?”

“It is, it’s just, he’s alone down there. I mean, he’s not  _ alone _ alone. He’s with a neighbor, but . . . “ He trailed off.

Logan nodded in understanding. “He should be with a parent,” He stated. There was a second of silence, leaving MacCready wondering whether he should say something else. Before he could, Logan sucked in a dramatic breath in what MacCready learned was Logan’s way of announcing he had more to say. “Well, we’ve got, like, three extra beds. We might have to move one closer to our room for him in here, though. Everyone sleeps put in the house, and Strong snores.” He shut the toolbox, flipping the latch. “ _ And _ Cait sleep-punches. It’s pretty terrifying.”

“Wait, really?” MacCready asked incredulously, because that couldn’t be it. There had to be some sort of catch, more convincing he had to do.

“Yeah, man. Remember when me and her went to help that farm by Quincy for a week, and I came home with that  _ disgusting _ black eye? She said it was an accident but I’m kind of wondering if it was because I drug her to clear out those raiders for the settlement.” He chewed on his lip thoughtfully, but eventually shrugged. “Either way, she let me tell everyone it happened in a fist fight with the raider leader, which was cool of her.”

“Okay, first of all,  _ oh my god _  -  “

“Hey,” Logan cut him off, “Don’t even, Cait can snap Strong in half if she wanted to.”

“That wasn’t even what I was talking about, but  _ Jesus _  -  “

“What were you talking about then?”

“I don’t know, it’s kind of stupid now, I guess,” MacCready told him, feeling awkward again.  “It just surprised me how easy it was to get you to agree, but then again, I’m asking the same guy who just got done telling me a story about walking all the down to Quincy just to kill a few raiders for a farm.”

The look Logan gave him was enough to portray exactly how he felt about MacCready’s thoughts, but he still had to express it with words, because just that wouldn't have been enough. “Convincing me to let you bring your son up here? Are you serious? Rob, this isn’t  _ my _ place, you know that, right? If it was, you and everyone else would be paying me rent.”

Even though he was saying it  -  and would always say it  -  it was hard for MacCready to believe. Anyone who had even been remotely generous in this world had ultimately died not too long after. No one had quite mastered giving and living besides Logan himself, and it just seemed so surreal. 

“I get it,” MacCready told him, really wishing the conversation would be over. It was stupid and he felt pathetic every time he felt himself even getting slightly choked up when someone showed that they had cared.  


“No you don’t, or else I wouldn’t have to tell you and Piper about it all the goddamn time.” He turned away, heading for the old, rusty fridge he had gotten up and running in the corner of the garage. He rummaged around for a second, pulling back with two bottles of Nuka Cola. “Why can’t you guys be more like Hancock  -  or Cait! They know I don't give a fuck,” Logan handed MacCready one of the drinks, which he accepted without even making a comment about preferring something stronger. “Cheers,” he said, clinking the glass together and twisting his cap off. “Anyway, what was I saying? Oh yeah, this is your house and whatever. I’m just in charge of making sure everything works and that there’s enough food. And water. And fixing the defenses.” There was another second of brief silence before Logan scoffed, “Maybe I  _ should _ make you guys pay me, this shit sucks.”

MacCready shook his head, “Nope, sorry, you made your choice.”

He hummed and took a drink, and after he swallowed he sighed out a, “That’s fair.” Without much warning, Logan threw his arm across MacCready’s shoulders and pulled him into his side, careful not to spill his drink. There was a time where MacCready would have tensed up, pulled away, or even punched Logan for touching him. He’d spent months getting used to Logan’s need for contact, though, and found himself pressing closer to him, hand gripping at the Vaultie’s hip. “Is that why you were acting all weird this whole time?” Logan nudged his nose to MacCready’s temple, making them stand in probably the strangest hug he’s ever seen or been a part of, but he didn’t find himself minding too much. “You thought I was going to say no?”

“I guess,” MacCready responded, feeling a lot more tired than he had been before. It was weird, having been worrying the whole week prior and then suddenly not. Not a bad weird, but still weird. He used his other arm to wrap around Logan’s waist and buried his face in his shoulder, breathing in the scent of oil and sweat. That was a little gross, but he enjoyed the feeling of the warm skin too much to pull away and whine about it. “Thanks, Logan,” he mumbled.

“No problem, Rob.” He wriggled when MacCready tried to pinch at his side for the nickname, countering with several quick kisses pressed into the skin between MacCready’s neck and shoulder where he knew the younger man was ticklish. Logan laughed as the other pulled back in a cringe and scowled at him. “I love you,” he told him, smiling but MacCready could tell he was being completely serious.

MacCready scoffed, but the red coloring his cheeks threw off his suave act. “I love you, too, I guess.”

**Author's Note:**

> Make sure to tell me if I fucked anything up with the spelling or formatting, y'know.


End file.
